


Same Ink, Different Purposes

by orphan_account



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - High School, Artist! Tweek, Denial, Different Outfits, Fanfiction Writer! Craig AU, Less Twitchy Tweek, M/M, Not Anything Explicit Yet, Probably ooc, SuperCaffeineBean, Will totally get explicit, WonderFlipOff, doesn't actually get into his fanfiction writing yet, fluffy dreams, the first few chapters are backstory, tweek's coffee isn't laced with meth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-02-10 13:06:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: *FROM CRAIGS POV**JUST BACKSTORY EXPLAINING MY AU FOR NOW, NONE OF THIS HAS HAPPENED YET*I’ve lived a double life for 2 years. At school, I was Craig Tucker, the kid that got too many notes in his locker from girls and guys. Online, I was SuperCaffeineBean, the most popular E-rated Creek fan fiction writer. The comments kept saying that I was the best at writing Craig, that he was so in character, whether I wrote in the first person or third. I would never let Tweek know that I wrote about us together. I could never let Tweek know about my obsession with him. I must never let Tweek know that the art that WonderFlipOff made from my fanfictions gave me a hard-on because of the faces they give him seem so in-character.And then Tweek just had to say to me one day, “Hey, did you know that this person named SuperCaffeineBean writes explicit fanfiction about us?”





	1. Dedicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a problem. Well, I guess it’s not really a problem, more of an obsession. I have an obsession, and his name is Tweek Tweak. I've been obsessed since 5th grade. It's my senior year of high school.  
> I'd never let him know that the "Yaoi Incident" was the spark. I must never let him know that when he changed his outfit, everything started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU that has multiple differences from the canon storyline.
> 
> 1) Tweek isn’t as twitchy and doesn’t spasm as often. He still has an addiction to coffee, but his parent’s don’t lace the coffee with meth, which makes him a bit calmer. He still freaks out about stuff a lot and pulls at his hair when worried and when there’s too much pressure, but he keeps a lot more of those thoughts inside and doesn’t do those things as often.
> 
> 2) Only certain events in the episode Tweek x Craig happened. The presentation on yaoi happens, the consent thing with PC Principal happens, the fight between the two happens, Stan’s entire thing with his dad happens, and Kyle still finds out what yaoi actually is. However, the fake breakup never happens because of something on the school message board, and that’s where it splits from the canon.
> 
> I'm going to apologize in advance for this kind of sloppy writing. I don't have anyone read my work, and the closest thing to proofreading I do is to use Grammarly. Please enjoy as much as you can!

I have a problem. Well, I guess it’s not really a problem, more of an obsession. I have an obsession. It’s not an obsession similar to the way I was obsessed with The Lord Of The Rings or the way I was obsessed with Star Trek. This obsession is one that consumes my every thought. It consumes every inch of my being and I am powerless to stop it.

I thought it was just a phase, but it isn’t. It warmed my veins at eleven years old and still burns them at eighteen. I thought writing out my thoughts would make it go away faster, but it just made it stronger. It just made my dreams that much more imaginative. That much more interesting. That much more intense. It gave me more material, more inspiration. I have an obsession, and his name is Tweek Tweak.

But my obsession is becoming a problem. I can’t focus in class; I’m too busy looking at him. I don’t eat enough during lunch; I’m too busy listening to him. He is something that has changed the way I live. Tweek Tweak may even be an addiction. Tweek Tweak and his hypnotizing green eyes. Tweek Tweak with his dark eye bags that somehow worked on him. Tweek Tweak and his red hair clips and that red streak and his blonde hair that was always disheveled and gave off that “I just got fucked” vibe. Tweek Tweak and his black ripped skinny jeans that outlined how small his legs were and made it clear that he didn’t have leg hair. Tweek Tweak and his light blue t-shirts that didn’t match his jeans or his streak but somehow still worked together. Tweek Tweak and his pale skin and how his smooth legs would feel on my rough ones. Whenever it’s class, my mind ends up wandering, and I end up scribbling down some ideas in my notebook about what to write about next.

It was “The Yaoi Incident” caused him to slip under my radar. After the presentation from Wendy, we were furious. We got consent lessons, but no one even cared when we said we weren’t gay. We fought and instead of them separating us and getting mad, PC Principal sent us home with money. The idea of Tweek and I being in a relationship was introduced to the entire community, and they became obsessed with us. People kept buying all the artwork that The Asian Kids did and went as far as to hang it on their walls. We were being celebrated for something that we were not. I briefly thought that maybe, the pictures would stop if we staged a fake breakup, but then I checked the school message board.

Someone had created a website. A website for submitting and sharing fan works about Tweek and I. Fan fiction, artwork, animations; you name it, there was an option for it. That’s when I knew there was no way to stop it. I didn’t know what to do. I was straight, and so was he, but everyone wanted us to be something we were not.

The next few days were hell. Within 12 hours of the site’s creation, there were over 100 works. Almost everyone had seen the site. Stan was so confused, and his dad wasn’t making anything easier for him. My dad was even worse. At home, he would sometimes give me this look, like I was the scum of the earth, like the gum under his shoe. He would sometimes look at me like I was a disgrace. Then Mom would just flip him off and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t normal.

Eventually, Kyle looked up and found out that yaoi was just an art form for girls, by girls, because they like the idea of two guys being together. He was the first to believe that Tweek and I weren’t gay and even spread it to other guys to make sure they knew. He came with us to PC Principal to talk about making a public announcement. The conversation that day was awkward. Kyle pitched our idea of an assembly, where Tweek and I would explain that we weren’t gay or dating, and Kyle would explain what yaoi actually is. Then Tweek and I would ask everyone to stop fangirling over us. PC Principal refused, saying that not only would imply that there is something wrong with being gay, but it would also stifle the children’s creativity and ways of expression. After about an hour of arguing (and me flipping him off), we came to a compromise.

The next day, we had an assembly in front of the entire school body. Tweek and I said that we were not dating. We then had to go on and explain that there was nothing wrong with being gay, but we were not gay. Kyle explained that yaoi is just a way of expression, not fact, and while sometimes it may depict real people or real couples, yaoi is not always true. However, the ending of the assembly was the worst. Tweek and I had to go up and say that the community may continue to express themselves through yaoi and that it was okay with us, as long as people distinguished between real life and fantasy. Even though we didn't really agree, it was what PC Principal wanted.

And so the site stayed up. Maybe people didn’t hang pictures on their walls anymore or talk about how cute we would be together in public, but there was always new stuff going on the website. During the first month that it was up, it even expanded to allow pairings of other people, but Tweek and I were still the most popular. But I guess there was some good that came out of it. I actually found my dad on the site at least twice a week after accepting that being gay wasn’t wrong, and people didn’t share this type of stuff in real life anymore.

But even though people didn’t talk about it, Tweek was uncomfortable hanging out with us. I didn’t know why it bothered me, but it did. Maybe it was because we were friends, and it felt like he didn’t want us as friends anymore, but it kept picking at my mind like a thorn in my side. Token, Jimmy, and Clyde all felt awkward without Tweek being there too, but I still felt that something was wrong with me. They weren’t as bothered as I was. We didn’t hang out as a group as often as we used to. After a month of awkward silence during lunch, Tweek finally came back and ate with us again. The mood was lighter and we started to get back into the old groove. We forgot about the site and started having fun as a group again. Things were good for about a year.

It was fifth grade when everything really changed. It’s one of the memories I remember vividly. It was a cold Thursday morning before school. The gang—minus Jimmy—was just hanging out before classes, talking shit about the newest scheme Cartman and them got involved in, when Tweek suddenly jumped in, “Uh, hey guys? Are you doing anything after school today?”

I pondered in my head for a minute, before replying with, “No.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Token said.

“I’m free too,” Clyde added.

“Cool!” Tweek said enthusiastically. “I need some help getting rid of my old clothes. I purged my entire closet so I could try something new with my clothes! My parents wouldn’t let me start wearing my new things until I got rid of my old things, so please help! I’ve got so many and I don’t just want to throw them away because other people could use them but then if I don’t get rid of them soon then I have to keep them and wear them and then I could die because I have too many clothes or because I outgrow them and they suffocate me and—”

“Tweek, calm down,” I said. “We’ll help you get rid of your clothes, right guys?”

“For sure,” said Token.

“Yea, why not?” Clyde responded.

Tweek brought out his first thermos and drank half of the coffee in it. He swallowed and sighed in relief. “Thanks, guys. This is such a huge help to me. I can get it done faster so I have more time for other chores before my shift at Tweek's Bros.”

We decided to meet in front of the school and then walk to Tweek’s house together then someone screamed that it was 5 minutes before school started. They all ran to class to avoid being late. I just walked. I didn’t really care if I was late or not. More importantly, what was Tweek’s new style like? Did he get rid of those button-ups? I hope he did because he still couldn’t do his buttons right. Is it a noticeable difference?

It was when I was sitting at my desk that it hit me. All the fan work was going to change, especially if it was noticeable. Was the site still up? Were people still uploading? I brought it up on my phone in an incognito tab. There was no way I was letting anyone know that I looked at the site. Class started, but I was too engrossed with the loading bar at the top of the screen to pay attention. The site loaded and I sucked in a breath.

It was still up. People were still uploading. I went under our tag, and there were animations, art, and fan fiction. I looked through some of the work. There was fanart of me as Feldspar with Tweek the Barbarian from when we played with The Stick of Truth, fanart of us drinking coffee at Tweek Bros. Coffee, and fan fiction about the first date between us. So people were still doing stuff, and they would definitely notice whatever change to his outfit Tweek did. I sighed. Now, all that people will be talking about for the next week or so is going to be Tweek’s outfit change and what caused it. That pretty much guarantees new fan fiction and art and stuff about how I influenced his fashion to change. Whatever. I knew that wasn’t the reason.

I closed the tab and put my phone in my pocket. I should just pay attention to class for now. The school day went by as a blur. Our lunch was normal along with everything else. Cartman insulted someone, someone punched him, and that someone got in trouble. Stan and Kyle were hanging around like they usually did, as best friends. Kenny was telling someone the story of the purity ring incident. I just sat around, observing any drama that went down but also just keeping to our own. I didn't want to get involved, but it was interesting to at least know what was going on. Tweek had gotten into his third thermos of coffee by the time lunch ended, so I knew that when we got to his house, he had to make another cup. Being on his third thermos by then is a sign that by the end of the day, his caffeine high will start to wear out.

After school, we all met up with Tweek in the front of the school like planned and started walking to Tweek’s house. The sidewalk wasn’t big enough to fit all four of us in a row, so we defaulted to the usual positions: Token and Clyde in the back and Tweek and I in the front. We talked about games on the way to his house, and about what games I had that he hadn’t played. I promised that after we helped him, all of us could head back to my place and play the game that he chose.

When we arrived at Tweek’s house, we walked up the stairs and into his room and everyone's eyes widened. Tweek had a _huge_ pile of blue jeans and green button-up shirts in the corner. The pile was about our height. “Dude, that’s a lot of stuff,” Token admitted.

“I-I’ll get the bags for it, and then we can just shove whatever into them. I still don’t know what to do with them though.” Tweek ran out the room, obviously nervous about the possibility of us leaving.

We all stood there in silence, just staring at the pile. After a few minutes, Clyde spoke up. “Yo, why does Tweek even have this many of the exact same shirt and of the exact same pants?”

I replied, “He’s probably afraid to ruin one or lose it or something.”

“Maybe he’s afraid the Underpants Gnomes will expand into stealing other clothing too.” We all started laughing at Token’s joke and were still laughing when Tweek walked in with a box of huge trash bags and some mugs.

“Uh, I made myself a cup of coffee, but I made you guys some hot chocolate if you want some while we work.”

We all smiled, thanked him, and got to work. After a few minutes, chaos ensued when Clyde took some of Token’s pile that he was going to put into his bag, and then Tweek freaked out about separating the jeans and the shirts. Eventually, I got fed up with this shit and took charge. Tweek was in charge of making a pile of jeans, while Token made a pile of the shirts. I would button up shirts and put them into my bags, and Clyde would put the jeans into his plastic bag. With this new set up, there wasn’t much yelling anymore, and we worked fairly quickly. Everyone finished their hot chocolate by the time we were done, and we all sat on the floor with one bag of jeans and one bag of green button-up shirts.

“Tweek, what even is your new outfit?” Token suddenly asked.

“Dude, you should show us,” I suggested. I really wanted to see the outfit that all the fan fiction and fan art would be centered around, but I also was curious to see what outfit made Tweek give up his staple clothing.

“Oh, uh, sure. You guys go sit on the couch outside while I change into it, so it can be a surprise.” Tweek looked down and fiddled with this thumbs a bit.

We walked out of his room, down the stairs, and sat on the couch. We couldn’t really hear anything from upstairs, so we just kind of speculated what his new outfit was going to be. Clyde bet on a shirt that said “DON’T LET NORTH KOREA BOMB US!” while Token thought that Tweek would just wear a different color button up shirt or a patterned one. I had no clue, but I guess I could see him wearing a v-neck shirt. We had no real ideas, but we just came up with the stupidest shit, when finally, we heard Tweek call down from the top of the stairs.

“I’m ready!”

“Come on down already!” Clyde yelled back as we all turned to face the stairs. 

Tweek walked down the stairs, and suddenly, I forgot how to breathe. His hair was brushed, in an attempt to slight tame itself, even though we all knew that it wasn’t going to last long with all his hair-pulling. But even though he tried, all it did was give it that kind of messy "just-got-out-of-bed" look. Gone was the green button-up shirt, replaced by a bomber jacket in the exact same shade of green. He had a bright blue t-shirt on, which normally wouldn’t be anything special, but it eerily reminded me of the color of my hat. And his normal blue jeans were swapped out for black ones. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I looked him up and down, and when I got back to his face, our eyes met and that one second felt like hours.

“Tweek, you look sick.”

I snapped out of my trance and looked away, suddenly embarrassed. Oh god, it took _Clyde_ to get me to stop looking. _Clyde_ , of all people.

“What do you mean I look sick? Like in a bad way? Like I might throw up? Do I look like throw up? Oh god, I should run and grab my button-up shirts, maybe I’m not ready for this change.” Tweek’s words get faster the more he panics, and he starts running his fingers through his hair and lightly pulling at some parts.

“Tweek, what Clyde means is that you look super cool.” Token clarified. Tweek’s eyes widened as what Token said sank in, and then smiled.

“Really guys? Are you sure?” Tweek said, apparently still unconvinced.

“Yeah dude, I mean did you see Craig’s face? He literally couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Clyde replied. Oh shit, Clyde fucking noticed, ugh. I brought my head into my hands and leaned onto my legs. I could feel my face burning up. I was totally blushing, wasn’t I? I looked up through my fingers to see how this would all play out.

“I’m pretty sure if Craig showing emotion isn’t a good indicator that it’s a good outfit, I don’t know what is.” Token nodded in agreement and looked at Tweek, who was looking straight at me, who looked like he still didn’t believe it.

“I don’t know guys. Craig, what do you really think?” Tweek asked. Great, now I had to actually voice my opinion. I looked back down into my hands, I couldn’t look at him while I said it.

“Tweek, it looks really good. It does. It suits you.” I said a bit muffled through my hands, my voice slightly cracking when I started my sentence, but just becoming slightly rough. I felt my cheeks heat up and I was glad that my face was obscured by my hands. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Oh god, why did I have to say it so weird? I tried to salvage what dignity I had left and change the subject. “It’s nice to see you didn’t get another button-up too, now there aren’t any buttons for you to have buttoned in the wrong places.”

Clyde chuckled, “True. Those buttons were always a mess and now you don’t have to worry about it. All the chicks are gonna be flocking towards you tomorrow when they see this new you.”

I didn’t want to think about tomorrow. I didn’t want to think about how the other people will react. I didn’t want to I didn’t want to have to see him tomorrow because if I react the same way I did today, who knows what will happen?

Tweek eventually changed into some more comfortable clothes, and with his gray sweats on, we finally figured out what we were going to do with the bags. We came up with the idea to call Kenny and ask if he or his little sister Karen wanted Tweek’s old clothes. Kenny agreed, and we all left, carrying the bags, towards Kenny’s place. We didn’t talk on the way, we were preoccupied with trying to make sure we could even lift the bags. Once we arrived, Kenny saw how much we actually had, and just let us put everything inside, saying he would figure out what to do with it. Kenny was one of the nicer kids in Cartman’s gang, and I’m kind of happy that since last year, we talked more than we used to.

Our good deed was done and those clothes were gone, so Token, Clyde, and Tweek all headed over with me to my house to play video games. I let Tweek choose the game as promised. This was easier, I could handle hanging around him with his comfortable clothes on.It didn’t give me that weird feeling I had earlier. When everyone left after Tweek freaked out about missing his shift and it was time for bed, I just laid in my bed in my pajamas.

Why? Why did I react like that when I saw his outfit? It’s still Tweek, one of my best friends. Just a friend. I’m not gay, and neither is he. We made this clear last year. But then why did I get all flustered when I saw his new outfit? Maybe it was just because it was different and he didn’t look like a dweeb. Maybe it was because he just looked cool. I remembered the outfit again, and I could feel myself blushing again. Ugh, I have no idea how I’ll handle tomorrow, maybe some sleep will help.

I woke up the next morning, got dressed for school, and went on my way. It was only when I got to school that I remembered about Tweek’s outfit change. I went to my locker to get some books, and then I heard a commotion coming from around the corner in the hallway. It was Tweek. The commotion was because of the outfit change. There were people whistling, compliments being yelled, and he was just there, taking it all in but somehow looked overwhelmed. I saw some girls walking up to him, twirling their hair with a finger as they handed him their numbers. But when they blew a kiss, I knew I couldn’t look anymore. What was wrong with me? Why would I be jealous of Tweek? Was it because I wanted girls hitting on me, or because I didn’t want girls hitting on him? I couldn’t tell, but what I did know is that I just needed to hide my face in my locker until Tweek passed.

As he approached my locker, I kept finding myself peering over the locker so I could see how close he was. I saw that he was very close, and buried my head in my locker, pretending to be getting books out of there and moving them around. But I could feel myself blushing. I peered over the edge of my locker to see if he was gone, but all I saw was him, just kind of looking at me with a smile. I quickly ducked my head back down, far enough to hide my blush, but high enough that I could still see him out of the corner of my eye. But maybe I didn’t want to see this.

Tweek’s smile dropped when he saw how I hid from him. He lingered for a few moments longer, looking at me hiding behind my locker with confusion and hurt. Then his expression changed, his eyes turning into the eyes of a sad lost puppy. He angled his head down slightly, then walked away. It felt like a spear had been stabbed through my heart. What did I do to him? How could I just do that to Tweek? Why was I still reacting like this to the point where it hurt his feelings?

It took a week or so before I was able to be around Tweek again. I had to get acclimated to his new outfit, and I had to find the right words to apologize to him. Even when I apologized to Tweek, I knew he was still hurt and confused. He didn't understand why I had hidden from him for a week, and neither did I. I just gave the vaguest apology I could, but I was sincere. While it was a bit comfortable with Tweek for a bit, everything else went back to how it was before. I could look at Tweek without my heart stopping, and we could all laugh together and play video games again. We even managed to finish the multiplayer story mode in the game Tweek liked at my house. The weird feelings I had before toned down a bit, and the only things that remained were my glances at Tweek out of the corner of my eye and my want to find him in a crowd. Everything else was back to normal again. It lasted for about a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, I didn't want to have multiple chapters on the backstory, but from what I've written so far, I didn't want there to be this really long first chapter that went through like 10 years of their "relationship." I've got my general events laid out, but please give me feedback or comment any questions you have so I know what to expand or clarify when I edit it. You can also comment any typos I made.
> 
> I'll post the next part of the AU backstory within the week hopefully!
> 
> P.S: If you just want to see the writing that Craig writes in the future since we all know from the summary and the tags that he gets there eventually, here's a link.
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/12897834


	2. To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Middle school. I fucked up a lot when it came to Tweek. I also went through a lot of revelations. I wouldn't share any of those revelations with him though. I wouldn't let him know that him being shorter than me made me want to protect him. I couldn't let him know that I had dreams about him at night. I can't let him know that I started wearing black because he did and that girls started putting notes in my locker because of me wearing black. I must never let him know that I had a crush on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BOY OH BOY IS THIS A LONG ONE! Seriously, it's very long. It would have come out earlier if it wasn't this long, but I guess I'm a fan of overexplaining things. I also didn't want more than three chapters on actual backstory and decided that I should just cram all three years of middle school into one chapter.
> 
> That being said, if you really want to read this much, feel free to enjoy!

In sixth grade or the summer before it, a majority of the school had hit growth spurts. It was kind of weird that some of the people you were taller than were now taller than you, and now you had to look up at them. Or when someone was about your height and suddenly they have to crane their neck up to look at you. But because a bunch of people had suddenly changed sizes, everyone bought new clothes. No more were the days where you could immediately identify someone from the color of their shirt, you had to take a minute to recognize them. But I guess it was only that way for me.

During that summer, I had gone with my family to visit relatives and then went to a camp that taught about genetic mutations. The only other eventful thing was my growth spurt, where I suddenly grew to be 5’3”. Even though my clothes didn’t fit anymore, I liked the way I dressed, so I just convinced my parents to buy the exact same outfit, but bigger. I didn’t know until I got back that anyone else had grown, but I had the idea that if anyone did, they would do the same as me, just get their same outfits but bigger.

I was so fucking wrong. When I first arrived at school, I didn’t recognize anyone, except Cartman—who was still a fat-ass—and Token, because he’s seriously the only dude of color in our school. I felt like I was in some sort of alternate universe, and I rushed over to Token.

“Dude, am I just fucking crazy or is this school full of new people?” I said, rushing my words in an attempt to actually speak.

“Craig, these are all the exact same people we’ve gone to school with since we were in preschool for fuck’s sake,” Token said, surprised.”How do you not—“ Token was struck with a realization. “Oh, that’s right, you’ve been gone all summer. Pretty much everyone hit a growth spurt and with their growth spurts came outfit changes. It’s been like this for the past month now, so I’m kind of used to it now.” He shrugged at the end, indifferent.

“Really? I mean I hit a growth spurt but I’m wearing the exact same stuff.” I replied.

“Yeah dude, I mean did you not see what I was wearing? I’ve changed my outfit too.” Token scoffed, obviously offended that I didn’t notice. It’s not like he could blame me though, I was too scared about the fact that I went to school with now-strangers. I mean, sure, I was wrong, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t panic.

Putting my thoughts aside, I stepped back to take a look at Token’s new outfit. He was wearing a purple and white souvenir jacket with yellow embroidery on the back that made a big “T”. Underneath, he was wearing a white t-shirt and he paired it with some black jeans. “Dude, that is a sweet-ass jacket. Custom?” I asked, knowing that with the amount of money his parents had that it probably was.

“Yeah,” Token replied. “Seriously though, it’s not surprising that you didn’t change your style. You just seem like you like that, and right now, your blue-and-yellow ensemble suits you.”

“What can I say, I’m a simple dude. Is there anyone who didn’t change?”

Token thought for a minute, before replying, “Tweek didn’t. He just changed his style last year though, so it’s understandable.” Tweek was wearing the same outfit as last year? Oh, this must be my day. At the very least I know I’ll be used to this outfit already.

“Then again, it could also be due to the fact that he didn’t have a big growth spurt like everyone else, so his clothes still fit him.”

“What?!” Tweek didn’t grow as tall as everyone else? Maybe he’s just a late bloomer. Although, if I’m being realistic, it was probably all of the coffee he drank. This kid would finish 4 thermoses by the end of the school day, and still, need more cups of coffee when he got home. But I’ll find out how much he actually grew by the time I saw him.

“You have to see him, Craig. I mean, you grew a lot and he grew only a bit. He’s shorter than me right now, and you’re looking slightly down at me right now. I’m only 5 feet.” Oh shit. Oh fuck. If Tweek is smaller than Token, and Token is three inches shorter than me, how short is Tweek?!

“Oh, there’s Jimmy and Clyde! Let’s wave them over. Tweek’s with them too, he just turned the corner.” Token waved his arm up, then when Clyde pretended to not hear him, he yelled for him to “get his ass over here right the fuck now.” As the group got closer, I skimmed over everyone else’s new outfits. Jimmy was wearing a long-sleeved green shirt, an unzipped yellow down vest, and his normal blue jeans, and his hair was still messy but had a part on the left. Clyde was wearing a blue denim jacket with a fur-lined collar over his burgundy shirt, and he had on light khaki-colored jeans. And then there was Tweek, with his black jeans and green bomber jacket and blue shirt and as he gets closer, it becomes evident how much shorter than me he is.

“‘Sup dickwads?” Clyde said. Now that he was closer, I could see that he was a bit taller than Token but not as tall as me. “Yeah guys, wh-what’s up?” Jimmy added. Jimmy was about the same height as Token, although I’m pretty sure Token’s hair gave him some extra height.

“Nothing much really,” Token replied. “Craig was just really confused on everyone’s new outfits. He thought everyone was different people.” Clyde and Jimmy tried to hold in their laughter but eventually exploded into full-blown laughs. Really Token, you just had to out me like that? I flipped off Token, and he just flipped me off back.

“Ugh, fuck you guys. It’s not my fault I’ve been gone all summer. Literally, this is the first time I’ve seen you guys or heard anything from South Park in the last two months. Cut me some slack.” I flipped off Clyde, who at this point, was holding his stomach in laughter. Jimmy had calmed down a bit, but he would still chuckle when he remembered.

“Oh… uh… sp-speaking of summer, how was the summer camp you went to?” I turned my head towards Tweek, who had finally spoken. And I was shocked. My jaw dropped along with my head. Token was right when he said that Tweek was shorter than him. He went up to about an inch above my jaw, and that was only if he had good posture. Shit, right, Tweek asked me a question, and because I didn’t answer yet, everyone was looking at me. I blushed and looked to the side before answering, “Um, it was fun. I asked some questions at the camp as to why someone would ever want to give things more butts, but Dr. Mephesto just kept calling me a non-believer.” Tweek was so tiny, or at least he felt tiny compared to me. Just talking looking even slightly down was so different. “Uh, what about you?” I asked, trying to dispel the awkwardness in the air.

“I just worked shifts at Tweek’s Bros., so, you know, the usual.” I could feel his green eyes staring into my soul. I looked back at him. His eyes, they were so bright. I really could look into them forever.

“Wow, get a room, guys!” I snapped my head in the direction of the voice and found Cartman. That fucking asshole. First of all, I had to be snapped out of my trance by Cartman. Second, we have literally explained to him that we aren’t fucking gay, and there was even the presentation in 4th grade. I wanted to fucking punch him, but instead, I just flipped him off and screamed back, “Fuck you, Cartman! You fat-ass!” As he walked off, you could hear him say, “Fucking homosexuals.”

I looked back at Tweek, who was still looking up at me, and he gave a lopsided smile. I felt the blood rushing to my face, so I looked around at everyone else. They were all looking at the direction Cartman walked off in. “He will never change,” Token commented. “Yea, I second that,” added Clyde. “It’s true, I mean, after all this time, he’s st-still a fat-ass a-and a pussy,” Jimmy joked.

“Thanks for standing up for me, Craig.” I looked down at Tweek, even though I didn’t really want to, and smiled. I opened my mouth to talk, but the 10-minute warning bell rang.

“Shit, guys, we have to get to class.” Clyde went running off.

“Did he forget that I’m in his class? Fuck you, Clyde. Now I have to walk after him. See ya during lunch guys!” Token called out to us before turning around and going down the hallway.

“Save us a good lunch table!” I yelled at him. Did he hear me? Token threw up a thumbs up without even turning around. Guess he did.

“Tweek, where’s your class?” I hadn’t had the time to compare schedules with people or find out the layout of the school, so I didn’t know anything.

“I have art. It’s my elective class. What about you?”

“Apparently, I’m heading to English Language Arts. I’m in room 604.”

“That’s near mine, so we can walk together!” Tweek beamed and my knees felt weak as if they wanted to buckle under me. Holy fuck, that smile.

“That’s good because I have no idea where I’m going.” I chuckled, trying to make light instead of the awkwardness I carried inside of me. We walked in silence most of the way until Tweek spoke up again.

“So, uh, when did you get so tall?”

“When did you get so short?” I retorted.

“Hey, I’m only 4’10”! That’s an average height for 6th-grade boys. According to my doctor, I’m perfectly healthy and my height is perfect for my weight.” His eyebrows furrowed and he gave me this angry pout. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dude… I wasn’t saying it was weird! I’m weird! I’m 5’3”!” I said between laughs. He was still giving me the pout, so I just reached out and messed up his hair. I was at the perfect height to do that now. He just gave me this look of disgust.

“Craig! That took me an hour to even attempt to tame! Now you’ve messed it up! Ahh! Oh god, I don’t have enough to fix it! This is too much pressure!” He started pulling at it hard.

“We all know it was going to get messed up anyway…” I still felt kind of bad now. I didn’t know he put that much time into it now. Before, it didn’t take long. I grabbed his hands to stop him from pulling out his hair. “Tweek, calm down. No one is going to notice that your hair is slightly different. It’s the first day of school. Everyone is more concerned with themselves.”

“That doesn’t help me! I care!” He was still freaking out, and he was starting to be loud and we didn’t have long to get to class. I needed him to calm down. After all, he was leading me to my class. I grabbed his face and pulled his chin to look up at me. He still shifted his eyes away. “Tweek. Tweek, look at me.” His eyes reluctantly locked with mine. “Your hair looks fine. If you are still freaking out about it, we can fix it during lunch. Okay?” He nodded, still looking into my eyes. “Good. Now lead me to my class so I can actually get there.”

We walked in silence. Tweek was keeping his head down for some reason. When we got to my classroom, he just pointed at it before walking off silently. Did I do something wrong? It was a bad idea to grab his face, wasn’t it! Ugh, I’m such a mess sometimes. I sit down in a random seat before realizing that the teacher had put a seating chart on the board. After finding and sitting down in my correct seat, the school bell rang and class started.

A brunette woman in her 20’s walked up to the board and faced the class. “Hello. My name is Ms. Smith, and I’m your English Language Arts teacher. I hope we have a good year.” I drowned her out, more concerned with what I had done to make Tweek act like that. It was then that I realized that with my height change, any fan fiction or fan art would change too. I tried to discreetly pull up the site on my phone, but then I heard a voice cutting through the air.

“Mr. Tucker. What exactly are you using your phone for?” Ms. Smith said accusingly. I felt all the eyes turning towards me. “Uh-uhh… n-nothing Ms. Smith.” I stammered as I shoved my phone into my pocket. She smiled. “As you would have heard if you weren’t looking at your phone, I’m okay with students using their phones during class as long as they are still paying attention to my class and not being disruptive or disrespectful. So, Craig, were you paying attention?”

I didn’t have time for this. I just wanted to check the site. I flipped off the teacher, expecting her to send me to the counselor. At least I could use my phone while waiting. What I didn’t expect was for her to give me the bird in return, then go back to going over the syllabus. Huh. That’s new. I liked this teacher. So I decided to pay attention, forgetting all about the site.

After the class was over, I walked out of the classroom to see Tweek leaving his class. I called out to him, knowing I had no other way of getting to my next class. But he looked at me, his eyes widened, his face went red, and he ran away in the opposite direction. Great.

I was late to my second and third classes of the day due to not knowing where they were and getting lost. So when it came to lunchtime, I was determined to know what was wrong with Tweek so much that he couldn’t even help me get to my next class. Token saved us a good table like I asked, but Tweek was nowhere to be seen. Right, he’s probably fixing his hair in the bathroom. I let Token know I was going to go find him, and then walked off.

When I got to the bathroom, I swung open the door to find him brushing his hair flat. He didn’t seem to notice me yet, so I just leaned back on the wall and watched. Besides, I wanted to know why this type of thing took an hour for him and why his hair right now wasn’t how it looked earlier. He took out a cylindrical bristle brush and then proceeded to flush his hair up a bit, so it looked slightly messy. I guess he wasn’t just trying to tame it because if he was, he would have stopped when his hair was flat. He must purposely make it a bit messy. I could hear him mutter under his breath something about a hair dryer, before turning around and stopping dead in his tracks and blushing. Our eyes met, and I had to say something.

“Dude, seriously, what is wrong? You ran away from me after the first period. I was late to my next two classes.”

Tweek glanced at the door, then back at me, then back at the door. Then, he bolted.

He didn’t eat lunch with us. It was weird for the first day of school. I just couldn’t stop thinking about him when he wasn’t there. Even through my last few classes of the day, I just... wasn’t really there, so to speak. I was in my own head.

I was laying in my bed with a red shirt and my planet boxers on, and still, instead of thinking about sleep, I thought about him. How his clothes still perfectly fit in with the fashion of the kids now, but he did it a year ago. How his hair was done with so much effort for one day at school. How soft his hair was when I touched it. How I used to be able to look at him without being very obvious because he wasn’t shorter than me. How him being smaller now just made me feel something really weird. I couldn’t even describe it. I kept trying to think of how to describe it, but I couldn’t stay awake. I fell asleep with Tweek on my mind.

In the morning, I waited outside of the classroom that I saw him walk into. If he was even thinking about going to class, he had to walk by me. I waited for about 10 minutes before I saw him walking down the hallway. When he saw me, he paused and looked at me. His eyes flicked to the side, probably briefly considering running away. But he just kept walking. When he got to the door, I blocked it and looked down at him. His eyes looked scared.

“Tweek, will you please talk to me?” I asked softly. He looked down at the floor, obviously trying to avoid me. I hurt my heart to see him like this. It felt like there was a hand squeezing it. I couldn’t really handle him purposely ignoring me like this.

“Tweek, please? Just tell me what I did wrong. I don’t know why you’re like this, and I can’t apologize for it unless I know what it was. I really don’t like that I did something that put you off, so just tell me what’s wrong.” I pleaded. God, what did I just say? Why did I let myself say that kind of thing? But if that’s what it will take to get him to talk to me, then that’s okay.

There was a moment of silence, and then Tweek looked up at me. Blushing, he said, “I…I can’t look you in the eye after you ruffled my hair and then grabbed my face like that. Not to mention that now you know how much time goes into my hair!” He hid his face with his hands. “I know it bothers you, and it really hurts me to ignore you as well, but I just don’t know what to do. Maybe it’s because…” He trailed off.

“Because?”

“Because you’re fucking tall, okay! Because you’re really fucking tall! I just need some time to get used to it, ugh!” Tweek spat out. What…? He’s been avoiding me since yesterday… not only because I touched his hair and face, but also because I’m tall? Man, if only I could tell him that him being short is making me feel weird too. But like he said, maybe I just need to get used to it. That’s probably it.

“Oh, okay. I understand. If you need space and time to figure it out, then that’s what I’ll give you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry for what I did. I really didn’t know that what I did was going to make you feel that uncomfortable, and I didn’t think before I did it. I’m really sorry, but I’ll give you the space you need to get used to it for now.” I managed to say. I stopped blocking his way and moved to the side. I started walking away, but I stopped. I couldn’t just leave it like this. I turned my head around so I can see Tweek. “Goodbye for now,” I said, before finally walking to my class.

It took a long time for me to finally get used to looking down a bit to see Tweek. We didn’t really talk to each other during that time, except for occasional times where we said hello to each other in passing. I didn’t want Tweek to eat lunch all alone, so I was the one who decided not to eat lunch with Token, Jimmy, and Clyde. Besides, the last time something weird happened, he ate alone while I ate with everyone else. It was only logical that this time, I was the one who stayed away so Tweek could have fun. I resorted to eating lunch outside, where I could breathe the fresh air but also still hear the bell that signaled when lunch ended. After a month, I got a text from Tweek, saying that he was used to it and that I could eat lunch with them again. There was only one problem.

While I may be used to looking slightly down to talk to Tweek, I wasn’t used to the way being taller than him made me feel. It made me feel like Tweek was something I wanted—no, needed—to protect. It made my heart beat a little faster when I saw him, but sometimes, when he looked into my eyes, it made my heart beat a little slower instead. Not only that, but I didn’t know that after I had touched his skin that I would remember how soft it was. I didn’t count on remembering how nice it felt to rub my fingers through his hair. I didn’t know how to get rid of these thoughts when I saw him, and I didn’t know if I could risk being close to him if this was what I kept thinking. I didn’t want to accidentally scare him by touching his skin or hair because my body moved of its own accord. I didn’t know what to do with this, so I stayed away from the table still.

But staying away made me want it more. I hate myself for wanting this. I hate myself for wanting to be near Tweek so bad that I may disturb him. I hate that this is how I think of him, because if he knew, then he wouldn’t want to be friends with me. I needed a way to get these feelings out of my system, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to talk to anyone about it. I was lost about what to do until my class with Ms. Smith one month and one week after the incident.

“Your assignment is to keep a journal for a week. You must write at least one page per day, and I encourage you to write about things that are troubling you or what happened during that day. While I won’t read the things you wrote or really check the length, I do hope that by now you actually care enough about this class and/or me to do it anyway. The only thing that will be checked is that you wrote an entry every day.” Ms. Smith stated, explaining the homework to the class. “This will be your only homework assignment for this week, so please don’t disappoint me.”

After that day of eating in the back, getting texts from Clyde about eating with them, and getting a text from Tweek making sure I wasn’t angry with him, I walked home, dropped my backpack onto the floor of my room, and flopped onto my bed. How was I supposed to try and suppress that weird... urge, I guess, to be near Tweek? And with that last thought, I knocked the fuck out.

I woke up to a dark room, and urge to piss, and a growling stomach. Holy fuck, how long had I been sleeping for? I checked my phone and recoiled at how bright my screen was. 11:00 PM. Man, I really need to eat and do my homework for tomorrow.  I ran to the bathroom, and after using it (and washing my hands), I went downstairs to get myself some food. I guess Mom and Dad saw me sleeping and didn’t want to wake me up when it was dinner time. But when I opened the fridge, I saw a plate of food covered in plastic wrap with a Post-It note that said, “For Craig when he wakes”. I smiled a bit. Thanks, parental units. I stuck the food in the microwave and while it was reheating, I ran back upstairs to get the notebook Ms. Smith gave us today.

Ms. Smith was a good teacher and she never hesitated to sass back Cartman or anyone else. I actually wanted to do her homework, especially since it was a daily assignment. I grabbed my food and sat down with my journal. She said she wasn’t going to check exactly what we wrote and I wanted to do her assignment seriously. How did I feel today? I suppose I could just write down what I did today too, but I felt like they connected to each other anyway. I’m just going to write whatever comes to mind and get my honest thoughts on the paper.

So, while shoving food into my mouth, I wrote. I wrote about the class today and how I got assigned to write in the journal. I wrote about how I ate alone for lunch, and how I got the texts from Clyde. I wrote about why I ignored the texts and didn’t respond. I wrote about my other classes after and how I didn’t really care what went on in those classes because my two favorite classes had already passed. I wrote how after school, Tweek texted me. I wrote why I couldn’t reply to the text. I wrote about Tweek. I wrote about how I remembered the way his hair felt when I messed it up. I wrote about how I wished I could look into his eyes like that again. I wrote about why I stayed away. I just wrote.

And when I couldn’t write anymore, I stopped. I had written three pages in my journal. I chuckled to myself. We were only required to write one. But after I had cleaned up and gotten into my pajamas, I laid in bed. And there were no more of those thoughts. I went straight to sleep.

The next morning, I felt better than I had in a month and one week. I went to school and when I saw Tweek walking his art classroom on the way to my class, I found that the feelings that I had written about had tamed down a bit. Instead of an urge, it was more of an itch. I went into Ms. Smith’s classroom and smiled. Today was going to be a good day. The bell rang and class started.

“Craig, can I talk to you after class really fast?” Ms. Smith called out while we were packing up. My smile that had been on my face for the whole morning dropped. Was I in trouble? I’ve been pretty good in this class, so I don’t know what it could be about. I walked up to Ms. Smith, who smiled at me and flipped me off. I gave her the bird in return. It had become almost an inside joke after what had happened on that first day of school.

“You looked a lot happier today, Craig. Did something good happen, or was it the journal I assigned?” I froze. How did she know that it was the journal? Even that’s a bit weird for a teacher to know.

“Uh, how did you know it was the journal?” I asked.

“Easy. The reason I assigned it isn’t just to improve writing skills when it comes to writing about complex emotions but to help students who have a lot on their mind to let it out. It’s not very healthy to bottle things up, and writing is an escape and a way to express yourself. Even if you never share it, you still feel better having gotten it out of your system.” Ms. Smith explained. “Or at least, that’s the way it is to me. I’m glad that the journal is helping you, Craig. Alright, you have to head to your next class now so you aren’t late.” I waved goodbye to Ms. Smith before rushing to my next class. Was that really all she wanted to talk about with me? It’s a good thing she did though because she’s right. I was happier.

When it came to lunch, I didn’t eat outside. I went to eat with the gang. When they saw me walking towards the table again, they all cheered. Fucking dorks. I smiled. These are my friends. I sat next to Tweek, looked into his eyes, and smiled. “Come on, let’s eat.”

I ate lunch with them every day from then on. I caught up on all the stuff that had happened with the gang. Apparently, Clyde had made out with Bebe in one of the science classrooms, but I kind of doubt that. We all started to hang out again. I continued to write down the way I felt if anything felt like it was getting out of hand. But, I didn’t need it for much longer than a week. Being near Tweek just made me feel at home. It didn’t make my heart pound any faster, but when something cute did happen, it just felt like my heart swelled. I didn’t want to think too much about what it meant. I just wanted to live with these feelings for as long as I could. I was able to keep them for what felt like a while.

Halfway through seventh grade, my sister demanded that I let her give me a fashion makeover. She had been into fashion for a while, and I guess she wanted me to be her next target—I mean, her next masterpiece. And that’s how I ended up at the nearest mall with Tricia and money from Mom and Dad.

“Craig, this is the store!” She grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the store. With its white walls and white floors, it looks more expensive than it is. Then again, it could just be that we were in the cheap bargain section. We go to the directory and find the men’s section is on the 3rd floor. We take the escalator up and when we get on the final escalator, Tricia runs to the top and looks around, seeing all of the possibilities of outfits that she could give me. Once I get to the top, she drags me to the formal section.

While she looks around to find the stuff she wants to me to try on, I look around and see if there’s anything interesting. They’ve got some black suits, that’s pretty fancy. But I feel like I would wear a tux if I ever had the choice. These are some interesting ties. Ha! I picked up a black tie with cups of coffee printed in a pattern on it. This would be perfect for Tweek. That is if he could handle tying a tie or even wearing a tie at the correct tightness. He would probably end up loosening it because he’s worried about choking. He wouldn’t even be able to do the button-up shirt correctly, so what’s the point? I chuckled a small bit, but I still put it in the shopping basket we grabbed.

“Craig! Try this on!” Tricia runs up to me and hands me a pile of clothes. Holy fuck, that’s a lot of clothes for one outfit. “Tricia, how is this one outfit?” I asked. She laughed.

“Dumb-ass! That’s two outfits! One is on top of the other. Try on the formal one first, then the semi-formal one! It should be clear which is which!” Tricia says before walking off to examine the casual section. I stood there for a moment before walking to the dressing room.

The first outfit she had me try on, the formal one, was a blue tuxedo that seemed to fit me almost too perfectly. I stared at the bowtie she gave me, trying to figure out how to tie it. You know what, fuck this. I’m looking it up.

I took a picture of the outfit and sent it to Tricia, and she texted me back immediately telling me to just show her outside. I walked outside and Tricia just gave me a look over. “Turn around.” She ordered. I turned. “…Okay, it looks good, it just isn’t something that really leaves an impression on me. It’s too simple. Try on the other one.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to the dressing room. The second outfit was a blue sweater, a white button-up shirt, and yellow pants. I spent most of the time trying to make the shirt feel comfortable underneath the sweater, but fuck it. I looked into the mirror and burst out laughing. I look so fucking preppy and rich, holy fuck! I had to take a picture of this and send it to the group chat. Once I was able to calm myself enough to pose like a rich person, I took my picture and then went outside. Tricia gave me a look over, I flipped her off, and she flipped me off in return. “You don’t look bad…” she said. “But I don’t look good either. I look ridiculous.” I snapped back. “Yeah, you really do!” She burst out laughing. “Anyway,” she said through the laughs, “I couldn’t find an outfit in the casual section, so once you’re done changing, come out and help me look.”

I took off the outfit and returned the clothes. On my way to the casual section, I pulled out my phone and texted the gang the picture of me in the tux.

“Man, aren’t I looking spiffy?” I texted.

“You look gay,” texted Clyde.

“Clyde, if PC Principal heard that, he would kick your ass,” Token replied.

“Guys, just stop. Obviously, he doesn’t look gay. If anything, he looks like a wanna-be Jimmy Fallon.” Jimmy typed.

“Craig, it looks good, it just isn’t really ‘you’, you know what I mean?” texted Tweek.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I texted back. “But doesn’t this one just scream ‘me!’” I sent the picture of the second outfit.

“HOLY FUCK, I JUST BURST OUT LAUGHING! DUDE, YOU LOOK LIKE A RICH DOUCHEBAG!” Clyde responded.

“Really? I thought I looked more like Token,” I replied, smirking as I sent it.

“Damn, and I thought I was good at jokes.” sent Jimmy.

“Sick burn. Sick burn. What a savage.” responded Tweek.

“I just came out to have a good time, and honestly, I feel so attacked right now.” texted Token.

I arrived at the casual section to find Tricia looking at outerwear. When she saw me, she waved me off with, “Go look at the pants, I need some ideas here.” I walked to the pants section and just started looking through jeans. White jeans, yellow jeans, blue jeans, red jeans, gray jeans, black jeans… I stared at the black jeans. Didn’t Tweek wear black jeans? Huh, he changed from blue jeans to black jeans, maybe I could do the same? I looked at the jeans, feeling the denim in my hands. “Oh, if you’re willing to wear black jeans, then this changes everything!” Tricia suddenly spoke.

She grabbed the jeans off the shelf and I backed up. “Woah, Tricia, watch out!” But she couldn’t hear me. The gears in her head were turning as she got over to the shirts, grabbed something, then ran over to the outwear section and grabbed something. She then grabbed my arm and dragged me to the dressing room, then dumped these clothes into my hands. “Try these on.”

I went into the room and looked at the outfit. It consisted of a red leather jacket, a white v-neck, and black jeans. This was a huge deviation from my normal look, could I really wear this? I put on the outfit, and just stared into the mirror. Oh. I really liked this. The black reminded me of Tweek, and everything else just fell into place. It felt like it was… me. Like this was an outfit I was meant to wear. The only problem was that my head felt naked without my hat.

I took a picture before heading outside. Tricia just looked dumbfounded at me in the outfit. “I really like this one, Tricia,” I said. “So do I,” she replied. “You look weird without a hat though. Let’s get you a new one after you take those off.” I walked back, changed, and put the clothes into the basket. Oh, the tie was still in there. Maybe I’ll get it for Tweek as some kind of gift. Tricia and I headed to the hat section where we found a black chullo hat with a red pom-pom on top. “I don’t think it will really mess with the aesthetic of your outfit, so this is good,” Tricia said before dragging me to the checkout.

Then came Monday. I woke up, and almost reached to put on my old clothes. No, I’m wearing my new outfit that Tricia picked for me. I put on my white v-neck and black jeans before putting on my red leather jacket. And for the last touch, I put on my hat. I looked into the mirror. I really liked my outfit. It made my heart swell with pride. Everyone was going to be so surprised. I almost ran out of the room when I saw the tie sitting on my desk. I’ll just bring it and give it Tweek at school. I shoved it into my bag and ran to school.

The reactions to my outfit started the second I walked through the door of the school. I didn’t really think it would be that big of a deal, after all, everyone else had changed their outfits a while ago, but apparently not. Bebe was the first one to see me, well, officially see me, I guess. She walked by me while texting, not even looking up to say, “Hi, Craig.” Then she stopped in her tracks, backed up until she could actually see me again, and then screamed.

“HOLY FUCK, IS THAT REALLY YOU, CRAIG!” Her eyes went from my outfit to her phone. “I have _got_ to tell everyone to check out Craig’s new outfit,” she mumbled as she typed at the speed of light. Once she sent the text, she looked back, and said, “Craig, you look really good in that.”

Next thing I knew, I was walking past all the lockers and everyone is staring at me or trying to catch my eye.  I heard multiple people saying that I looked hot, and even some asking, “Who is that?” There were the people who saw me and their jaws dropped. All the attention is kind of getting to me, but I loved my outfit. I wouldn’t try and hide. Finally, I found the gang and rushed over to them.

“Craig, you look really nice. That outfit suits you a lot.” Token said as I approached.

“Yeah, did you get that yesterday when you went shopping?” Clyde asked, and I nodded in return. “Oh, fuck you dude, you didn’t even show it to us!” I shrugged, and Clyde flipped me off. I returned the favor.

“Y-You look kin-kinda bad-ass.” Jimmy chimed in. “Really? It’s the leather jacket, isn’t it?” I reply. “P-P-Pretty much.”

“Um, Craig?” I heard Tweek’s voice and turned my head towards the direction it came from. When I saw him, my heart stopped. He was blushing and looking down at the floor. “Uh, your outfit, it’s really cute. I think it looks good on you.” Holy fuck, did Tweek just call me cute? My heart beat slowly, wanting time to slow with it. “Thanks, Tweek,” I replied, wishing this could last forever. Right, the tie! I should give it to him.

I brought out the bag that I put it in and handed it to him. He looked up from the ground and cocked an eyebrow. He could do that?! It’s adorable. “Craig, what is this?” And that was as far as he got before he started over thinking. “Is it a special occasion? Was I supposed to get you something too? It’s not my birthday or anything... Is it _your_ birthday?” Tweek rambled, the words jumbling together. “Dude, chill. I just saw it at the store and thought of you.” He took a breath and then grabbed the bag.

“Wow Craig, you didn’t get me anything? I’m offended.” Clyde teased.

“Oh, fuck off Clyde.” I snapped back.

“I feel left out though, where’s my gift?” Token added.

“Oh, go buy your own shit Token.”

“I-I don’t know boys, a-after all, this is so do-domestic,” Jimmy added. I just glared at him. I was out of insults.

“Oh…” I turned my attention back to Tweek, who had taken the tie out of the bag and was looking at it. “I mean, I don’t know how often you dress up, but I just thought it really suited you.”

“Ha, suited. Get it? **Suit** ed?” Clyde whispered, elbowing Token, who shushed him.

“It’s really nice, thank you so much, Craig. It’s beautiful.” Tweek said, just looking at the tie in adoration. “I kind of feel like hugging you… but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” I widened my eyes. “Oh gosh, did I say that out loud? Ah!” Tweek ran his hands through his hair and started to pull it. I grabbed his hands and made him put them by his sides. “Dude, it’s okay. We can hug.”

Tweek looked up at me, and I bent down a bit so he could hug me.

He was warm and felt so small in my arms. His arms were hugging me tightly, and I could tell that he was trying to express how thankful he was in that hug. I held him as tight as I could so he felt comfortable. I heard the gang snickering and whispering, but I didn’t care.

“GET A FUCKING ROOM, YOU LITTLE QUEERS!” Tweek pushed off of me in shock, his eyes widening as his head whipping towards the voice. Fucking Eric Cartman… I gave him the steeliest glare I could. “Eric Cartman… I swear to fucking God if you do this one more time, I will tell the entire school on the P.A. system that one time in the fourth grade, your mom caught you masturbating with your ass in the bathroom. Then you can tell me how it feels when people call _you_ a queer in the hallways.” Cartman backed up, shocked at what I had said. He closed his eyes, took a breath, then straightened his red hoodie. And then… he walked away, muttering under his breath, “I’ll get you back. This can’t happen at my school.”

By the time I looked back, Tweek was gone, and the rest of the gang was staring down the hallway in the other direction. “Dude, what the fuck was that?” Token asked, obviously shaken by what I had said. Honestly, even I had no idea. I just pulled my hat down and walked away.

Tweek was obviously shaken by what had happened. He stayed away during lunch, and when I texted him, he left me on read. He wanted nothing to do with me, I guess. Even after school, I didn’t see him. I sighed and opened my locker, and jumped back as something fell out. My locker was pretty neat, so it wasn’t one of my folded up papers that fell out. I picked it up. Besides, I doubt a thing from _my_ locker would say “For Craig” on the front. I opened it up.

> _“Dear Craig,_
> 
> _I know you don’t know me, but I’d like for you too! I’ve always had my eye on you before and thought you were really cute. But after this morning, where you walked into the school with that outfit, I really couldn’t say you were cute anymore. You were really hot and bad-ass. I really couldn’t hold back anymore._
> 
> _Craig, I have a crush on you. I’d like to say it in person too, and ask you out on a date. Please meet me in the art room._
> 
> _Love, Your Future Girlfriend.”_

Oh. my. God. What the fuck was this? Was this a joke? Whatever it was, I really didn’t want to get into this. I shoved it into my pocket and shut my locker. I just walked home and laid on my bed. Today was wild. People spent all day talking about my outfit, I blackmailed Cartman, I got a confession letter in my locker, and Tweek was now avoiding me. I sighed. I hope that he was okay tomorrow. I shot him another text, just in case.

“Hey, I’m really sorry for whatever it was that I did. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” I typed. Should I even send this? Fuck it, what have I got to lose? I went to bed after sending that text, hoping everything would just blow over by tomorrow.

It didn’t blow over. People were still whispering about my outfit, Cartman was spreading some kind of rumor, and Tweek was nowhere to be found. It stayed like this for a week. I was upset that Tweek wouldn’t talk to me. I got him a tie, and he’s not going to talk to me? If I wore my old outfit, would that fix anything? I doubt it. I didn’t know what to do. I hated myself for doing something to him again and I hated Cartman for making everything worse. I pulled out the journal that Ms. Smith had given to me last year, and I wrote.

I woke up with my pencil in my hand and the corner of the journal imprinted on my face. Shit, I must have fallen asleep while writing. I try and remember something, but it fades quickly. Did I have a dream? Whatever, I just wanted to get to school already and worry about class instead of my actual problems.

I went to school and was surprised at the lack of commotion. Finally, no one was freaking out about me and my outfit change anymore. It was when I arrived at my locker that the commotion started. You could hear the whispers just grow in number as the person in question grew nearer. Finally, they turned the corner.

Tweek? I saw his eyes, with his usual eye bags, and didn't understand the commotion. Then I looked at his outfit. It wasn't that different, but it was different enough for people to notice. He was wearing a light blue tank top that was almost the color of my eyes and his green bomber jacket was just tied around his waist. His normal black jeans were replaced with black skinny jeans, and tied around his right arm was a red-and-white bandana. He also trimmed his hair a bit and what it showed was that he had pierced his ears. He saw me looking and started walking towards me. I put my stuff in my locker, closed it, and turned to him. I wasn’t going to have a repeat of 5th grade.

“Hey, Craig.”

“Hey, Tweek.”

“Listen, I’m sorry that I didn’t reply to your texts and that I ignored you. I just was thinking about things and the only thing that I came up with to actually do is to change my outfit slightly and then actually talk to you. It’s stupid, right?” He reached up to scratch his head while he talked, almost like he was nervous. But he didn’t look it.

“Dude, it’s not stupid. You aren’t stupid. I’m just glad that you’re here now.” I smiled, still slightly confused as to what he was thinking about. Well, if I don’t ask, he might not tell. “What kind of things were you thinking about?”

“Oh, uh… it’s hard to explain.” Tweek turned his eyes to the floor and stuffed his hands into his pocket. Then he looked up. “It’s all okay now though! Listen, I want to get to my Pre-Algebra class early, so I’ll see you at lunch, okay!”

“Uh, okay. See you then!” I waved goodbye as he continued to walk down the hallway. I knew the school by now. That was not the direction of his class. Whatever. I walked to class.

My classes all fucking sucked. Even though Ms. Smith taught 7th graders, I wasn’t in her class. I still saw her in the hallways though, and whenever I did, I would flip her off. We would laugh, and then be on our way. But Tweek was in her English class this year, and it was his class right before lunch. So when that class ended, I rushed over from my Life Sciences class so I could meet him at the door. When he saw me waiting, he was surprised. “Oh, Craig, what are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here? I’m waiting for you so we can go to lunch?”

“Oh, right. Okay, let’s go. Bye, Ms. Smith!” He yelled as he walked out the door, trying to wave goodbye to her but instead just waving around a journal in the air. We started walking to the cafeteria.

“Did she give you guys the journal assignment?” I asked.

“Yeah, we need to write in a journal for a week.” Tweek sighed. I smiled.

“Dude, I loved the journal-writing assignment. I actually still use my journal sometimes. Maybe you’ll like it.” I said excitedly, happy to share my interests with Tweek, but he just kind of sighed.

“Meh. I’m not really good at expressing the way I feel through writing. It’s not really my style. I’m much better at doing it through art.” Tweek said. “I’ve never seen your art.” I realized. “Oh, maybe one day you’ll get to see it.” He replied with a smirk on his face. We walked through the doors of the cafeteria together.

Lunch was good. There wasn’t much drama that went on. Even though I was paying attention to my group, I would always just look around the entire room every once in a while, just to see what was up. It was a habit. At Cartman’s table, Stan was doodling on Kyle’s arm. Kyle was wearing Stan’s blue hoodie sweatshirt and had the right sleeve pulled up, his arm resting on the table while he moved his leg restlessly, resulting in a red jean blur. Stan had the sleeves of his red long-sleeved shirt pulled up so ink didn’t smear on it. The next time I looked, Stan had apparently gotten annoyed with Kyle’s leg fidgeting, so he put his own leg over his to stop it. Now you saw Stan’s green jeans over Kyle’s red jeans and the doodles of PS4 buttons and controllers covering his arm.

When I glanced over at the girl’s table, I saw Wendy tapping away at her laptop and Bebe talking to her while texting. Wendy usually had her hair done half down and tied with a purple ribbon, but she must have been doing something serious because she had her hair tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing her usual white t-shirt, light wash denim vest, and pink skirt. Well, she was wearing the vest until she got so pissed off at whatever she was looking at that she took it off and threw it on the floor. She was probably trying to send a letter to Congress or something. Bebe, however, was either talking to Wendy about gossip or about whatever Wendy was writing about. She kept flipping her blonde-pink gradient hair behind her shoulder as she talked. She was wearing a light pink eyeshadow, a red spaghetti strap tank top, light wash mom jeans, and had a green flannel shirt tied around her waist. I doubt they were talking about gossip though, considering that Bebe and Wendy and sighed and then continued to rant at each other.

But after lunch came more classes, and after classes came going home. Token, Jimmy, and Clyde were all going to hang out at Raisins, and I really didn’t feel like going. As I walked out of the front of the school, I heard Tweek call out to me, “Craig! Wait up!”

I stopped, and when Tweek caught up and caught his breath, he said, “Holy _fuck_ , you walk fast with your long legs. Anyway, can we play a video game at your house? I’m bored and don’t want to head to my coffee shop or home.” Why wouldn’t he want to go there? It’s got his favorite thing: Coffee. But I nodded, and we walked to my house in silence.

We sat on the couch and played games using my PS4. Well, more like Tweek played and I sat next to him, watching and adding commentary. Once he got tired of that, I plugged in my Switch and we played Arms. We ended up standing up, throwing insults at each other and just laughing at everything that happened.

In between rounds, Tweek mentioned, “Does this remind you of that time we got into a fight?”

I chuckled. “Which time?”

“The first time, when we both ended up in hospital beds.”

I didn’t really see how it could remind him of that, other than the fact that we were fighting in general. “I guess? I’m really only seeing the connection that we’re fighting in this game too.”

“Oh… Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

After a while, we finished playing and Tweek finally went home. We didn’t get to talk about why he didn’t want to go to the coffee shop or his house, and we didn’t get to talk about what had happened the other day. The best thing I could do was text him about it and hope for a response. I went to bed holding my phone, waiting for a text back.

I was holding a hand. Scratch that, I was holding _his_ hand as we sat on a bench looking into Stark’s Pond. We talked about everything, from his addiction to coffee and love of art to my love of Biology and obsession with Game Theory. We were laughing and having fun, and he was smiling. I liked his smile. He squeezed my hand once in a while. His hand was warm and it felt just right in mine. Next thing I knew, we were in my house, playing video games. The only difference from earlier today was that he was either sitting in my lap or leaning over my shoulders. But everything felt right. When it was time, we hugged and it lasted longer than it should have.

“Craig! If you don’t get up, you’ll be late!” I heard Tricia banging on my door.

I shot up into a sitting position. I was on my bed. Was it a dream? I usually forget my dreams… but why do I still remember this one? I hurried and got ready for school before leaving, knowing that the rest of my day was going to be _very_ awkward.

I managed to hide the fact that I had just had a dream about Tweek whenever I was around him. The problem was that I kept having the dreams. They were always innocent and cute, usually just involving things that were romantic. Sometimes it was a date, other times it was a peck on the cheek. Sometimes they were laser tag games, other times they were just us looking at the stars. They showed no signs of stopping, especially because Tweek and I played video games together more often after what happened that day.

By eighth grade, I had just learned to push the dreams to the back of my mind. It’s not like they were important or anything. I didn’t _like_ Tweek or anything. It was just a reaction to seeing him and hanging around with him often. But sometimes, when I saw him, I thought back to the dreams and would just get this dumb-ass smile on my face.

On the Friday of graduation practice, we were sat next to each other in our seats. Tweek had grown an inch or two, but nothing drastic. I looked over at him and remembered my latest dream, where he had fallen asleep laying on my chest. I blushed, thinking about that dream all over again.

“Uh, dude, what are you looking at?” I snapped back to reality and out of my dream, and Tweek was just giving me this questionable look. I looked at the floor. “Nothing.”

I tried my best to just look forward and pay attention to what the teachers were saying about all standing up at the same time and sitting down together, but all I could hear was the gossip from the girls behind us. I turned around and just looked at them, but they just kept talking. I turned back towards the front.

“So you like them?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Are you going to get them a graduation gift?” A graduation gift? Do people get those for their friends in the same grade? Actually, they’re talking about a crush, right? Whatever, it’s basically the same thing.

“Uh, _duh_. I’m not that much of a fucking idiot. I’m thinking cufflinks or something?” Okay, apparently if you don’t get a graduation gift for someone, you’re a dumb-ass. Interesting.

“Cufflinks? What kind of eighth-grader wears _fucking_ cufflinks? Get him something meaningful or cool, I don’t know.”

“ _He_ wears fucking cufflinks, so it _is_ meaningful!” Okay, now this conversation was getting boring. I tuned them out and just listened to my own thoughts.

Graduation presents, huh? Should I get one for Tweek? It seemed like a weird thing to do, but maybe it would be nice. I thought about giving Tweek a gift, and my heart warmed. I flashed back to the time I gave him that tie, and how he hugged me afterward. I _really_ want to give him a gift. So what should I get him? He was still doing art, so maybe something art-related? I’ve seen him doodling on desks and in his notebooks whenever he can, but those things are always things he can lose. Not to mention that drawings on paper are useless if you don’t have the paper. A drawing tablet! I should buy Tweek a drawing tablet.

When I got home later that day, I looked online to see what drawing tablets were considered high quality. A lot of the ones I came across were really weird. They were just a pad that connected to your computer display, so when you drew, it would appear on the computer, but not where your hand was. What? I don’t even know how I would be able to get used to that, not to mention how weird it probably is in general. How do you know if your tool is in the right place? I decided that he was going to get one with a screen. Then I looked at the prices.

 _Holy fucking spawn of Satan, one thousand dollars?!_ The Wacom Cintiq Pro 13 Full HD was the best one on a market. It still connected to a computer though, but I knew that Tweek had a laptop already, so that was a plus. I didn’t really have one thousand dollars. I emptied out all the money I had saved in my money jar and added any money I had in my wallet. Surprisingly, I had five hundred dollars, but that still wasn’t enough. The only way I could afford this would be to ask people to help pitch in, but if I asked the gang, they would know something is up. I sighed. At times like this, I wished I was Token.

Token. If I really tried to ask him for help, would he? I was there for him when Nichole broke up with him for good last year. I helped him beat the shit out of Cartman for breaking his bass. I try to fend off the people that would go to him for charity donations, just because his family had money. He’s confided in me and trusted me over the past few years, and after I saw him crying last year, we talk a lot more about this type of stuff. But I never talk to him about the way I feel about things. Maybe I should start.

I called up Token and let him know I was coming over tomorrow, mostly so the security guard didn’t try to do anything to me when I arrived. The next morning, I got dressed and went over. When I rang the doorbell, he answered and invited me in. He was shirtless and only wearing his long pajama pants.

“Dude, put some clothes on.” I nagged.

“Listen, Craig. It’s only nine AM on a Saturday, you woke me up with the doorbell, and this is my house. Now you’re telling _me_ to put clothes on? Fuck no, dude.” He replied, still tired. We went up to his room and sat in the beanbags he had in the corner.

“Remember when you used to have a race car bed?” I asked. “Who doesn’t remember that? That bed used to be awesome.” He replied.

“But seriously, Craig, cut to the chase. We all know you didn’t come here to reminisce about my old room.” I looked at the floor, not ready to say anything yet, but I didn’t have to. Token continued, “You even forgot that you guys are on the security guard’s permanent list and called ahead of time. Also, you never call people and you forgot to put on your hat this morning.” My hands shot up to my head. He was right, all I felt was my hair. Ah, shoot. I had forgotten that Token was good at this kind of stuff.

“Uh... This is going to sound weird, but...” I ran my hands through my hair. “I want to get Tweek a graduation gift?”

“A graduation gift? Do people get those for people in their own grade?”

“I don’t know man, I just heard some girls talking about it from behind us yesterday at grad practice, saying they were going to get their crush cufflinks or something.”

“Craig, but that’s a crush. Why would Tweek pop into your head?”

“I don’t know!” I started to raise my voice.

“Craig, do you have a crush on Tweek?”

Everything stopped. Everything moved too fast. Everything stopped again. Did I have a crush on Tweek? No, there’s no way. Having a crush means thinking about them all the time, and smiling when you look at them, and having your heart pound when you’re with them, and feeling like home when you’re with them too, and wanting to give them the best, and thinking about being together and doing coupley things and—shit. I thought about Tweek all the time. I smiled like a dumb-ass whenever I looked at him. My heart would pound when I saw him. In my dreams, being with him felt like being at home. I wanted the best for him. And if my dreams weren’t indication enough, I guess I thought about doing coupley things with him. Oh god. I have a crush of Tweek Tweak. I have a crush on Tweek Tweak.

“Oh my god. Token, I... I think I do have a crush on Tweek Tweak.” I said in realization, my hands running through my hair constantly and my eyes wide.

“Wow, I didn’t think that today would be the day that I got Craig Tucker to realize and admit that he has a crush on Tweek Tweak. Fuck yes, Jimmy owes me ten bucks.”

“What? You guys _bet_ on this?”

Token laughed. “Dude, we’ve had this bet going since that one time you guys hugged and then you got mad at Eric Cartman.”

I blushed. Fuck those guys. I flipped off Token, but he just laughed.

“Dude, please don’t tell them. They’ll just nag me about it constantly.”

“Fine. I’ll collect my bet, but won’t actually say what it’s for.”

“Deal.” We shook hands, solidifying it. Token leaned farther back into his beanbag. “So, what exactly about a graduation gift do you need my help with? Do you need help figuring one out?”

“Not exactly, I kind of already have a gift chosen out.” I walked over to his computer and pulled it up.

“Wow, that’s really high quality. I can see what the problem is now, and I can see why you thought of me.” He faded out, disheartened that I would come to him for money. He faked a smile, saying “I mean, if it helps me make my friends happy, then I’ll gladly hand over—”

“No, it’s not like that!” I interrupted. “I asked you because you’re the only person I thought I could tell! I just wanted some ideas to raise some money! I didn’t come to ask you for your money.” I was pleading at this point. “Token, I already have five hundred dollars. Another five hundred wouldn’t take too long to get and isn’t too much. I can raise that amount of money. I just need help with ideas.”

Token was silent for a minute. It was awkward. Then he hugged me. “Dude, thank you. That actually means a lot to me.” We pulled apart, and he chuckled a bit. “Seriously though, it’s way easier for me to help you raise money by just giving it to you.” He pulled out his wallet. I tried to protest, but he stopped me. “ I’m comfortable with it, now that I know that my money isn’t what you were after in the first place.”

I was stunned. “Token... thank you.”

After our little heart-to-heart, I hung around for breakfast and to answer any questions Token had. They were mostly asking about Tweek, so a majority of the time I felt slightly awkward. But it felt good actually talking about it. I didn’t tell him about the dreams though. I couldn’t. That was too embarrassing and too weird.

When I left, I rushed to the bank to borrow my mom’s credit card. I first had to exchange all of the coins that were part of my five hundred dollars into bills, then give her the money for what I was buying, but then she finally gave me the card. I rushed back home, logged into her Amazon Prime account, and ordered the drawing tablet with same-day delivery. When it arrived that night, I ran upstairs and wrapped it to the best of my ability. I only had to wait until next Friday to give this to him.

The week actually went by pretty fast. It was filled with a flurry of sending out graduation invitations to family, reserving a restaurant for lunch afterward, setting up the guest room, and family worrying about what to make me wear. Eventually, they settled on a deep red tuxedo jacket, black dress pants, a white collared shirt, and a blue tie. Since our school wasn’t using gowns, they wanted me to stand out.

On the day of graduation, I was stood, waiting in line for us to walk on stage. Tweek was behind me. I didn’t want to turn around. It was bad enough that I realized I have a crush on him, but now I could feel his presence even from inches away?! I didn’t know how to face him knowing that I liked him. I didn’t even know how I was going to give him the gift I had given to my parents to hold.

“Craig?” Oh god, I can’t turn around. Just hearing his voice made me blush.

“Yes, Tweek?” I replied, still facing forward.

“Let’s get a picture together afterward, okay?”

“Yeah.” I smiled. I could give him the gift then.

An hour and many diplomas later, the graduation was finally over. My parents and family were already all taking photos of me with them. When I saw Token, I called him over, hoping he could save me. But my parents just made him take a photo of everyone flipping off the camera. Then they wanted a picture of Token and I. Token was wearing a dark purple velvet suit jacket with a lighter purple tie that had a yellow “T” pattern that contrasted perfectly with his white collared shirt. We posed for our picture, and when they were done, I turned to Token.

“I don’t know if I can do it. I mean, I can’t even face him now that I know that I have a crush on him.”

Token just grabbed me by the arm. “You can do it. I can be there if you want. So let’s just ask your parents for the gift and then be on our way.” I gulped, and we did exactly that.

We walked around for a few minutes looking for Tweek, running into other people on the way. A lot of girls stopped us to get a picture with us. Wendy, who was wearing a lavender purple skater skirt dress, asked us for a photo with her and Bebe. When Bebe, in her long scarlet dress, agreed, we took the photo.

“Hey, have you guys seen Tweek?” I asked, tiring of the search.

“Oh, yeah. His parents are with him up on the steps.” Wendy replied.

I looked at Token, we nodded, thanked Wendy, and headed towards the steps. When I found him, my heart stopped. He was wearing black dress pants, a short-sleeve white collared shirt, red-and-black striped fingerless arm warmers, and... the tie I gave him. The black tie with cups of coffee. Tweek waved, and I just continued to stand there, until Token pushed me forward.

“Oh, uh, hey Tweek.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“I know that this is a little weird, but... I got you something, a graduation gift.” I held out the wrapped gift.

Tweek’s eyes widened as he looked at the gift, then me, then back at the gift before taking it. He turned it around in his hands. “Nice wrapping paper,” he commented. It was wrapping paper of espresso beans. “Thank you,” he said.

“Open it.” Him just looking at it was killing me. I just wanted him to open it already so I can stop feeling so weird about this. “Oh, right.” He neatly took off the wrapping paper, handing it to his parents. Then, when he turned it to the front, he stopped.

“Craig, this is... How did you... Oh my god... What even...” Did he not like it? I worried for a moment, thinking that he already had one or I made a stupid mistake.

“This is the best thing I have ever gotten! How did you afford this?! Oh my god, what even got you to get me this!” Tweek was practically jumping with joy. I smiled. He liked it, fuck, he loved it. It made me so happy to see him like this. He suddenly hugged me, and I hugged him back. He handed to his parents, then actually jumped to wrap his arms around my neck to hug me again. I caught him and held him tight. It just felt right to hug him like this, to be close to him, it was perfect. His parents eventually got us to take a picture together with the drawing tablet, and I couldn’t stop beaming and blushing the entire time.

“Oh no, I don’t have anything for you!” Tweek suddenly said.

“I don’t need anything, don’t worry about it,” I replied, trying to calm him down.

“No, I feel bad... Oh!” He ran to his parents, whispered something in their ear, and they handed him a sketchbook. He looked through it, found a certain page, then ripped it out.

“Here.” He handed me the page. It was a colored drawing of me with my leather jacket back-to-back with me... in my outfit from today.

“Once I saw you, I knew I had to do it. It just looked super cool and different, so... yeah. This is my graduation present to you.” He smiled up at me, and time stopped.

“I’ll-I’ll keep this forever, Tweek. Thank you so much.”

Once all the pictures of groups, pairs, friends, and families were over, and the chaos had died down, I went home and framed the drawing, then hung it above my computer. I actually still have it up there and I look at it while I write. But I digress. Token sent me a bunch of photos afterward too. He had taken candid pictures of when I had given Tweek the gift. When I was swiping through them, I stopped when I got to the one where he had jumped and wrapped his arms around my neck. I looked so happy. He looked so happy. I made it my wallpaper on my phone. I was content with myself and what had happened. But I had no idea what all of this had set myself up for freshman year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, I'm proud that you got through that. I hardly got through it and I wrote it! I also didn't proofread pretty much any of it. But the next chapter will hopefully be shorter and get into some actual explicit stuff!
> 
> Please leave a comment telling me where I could have split this into two chapters because honestly, it's really long! Or give me some love or hate, I don't really care which!
> 
> P.S. If you want to know the songs I listened to while writing this, they were One More Weekend by Audien & Max, and Toothbrush by DNCE!


	3. *NOT A REAL UPDATE, WILL DELETE LATER*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN EXPLANATION FOR MY ABSENCE AND EXPLAINING THAT THIS WORK IS NOT DEAD!

Hey everyone, it's been a while since I updated and I just wanted to give you a quick update on why I haven't made any new chapters recently.

I actually have a timeline set out for the backstory and future chapters, but it's not exact. The way I write is that I have goal points to hit and big events, but everything leading up to that event is basically freehand and off the top of the head. For me, it's better for me to write that way since I can do whatever I want, as long as I get to my goals or big event.

When I was coming up with chapter 3 for this fic, I started thinking about ways to get rid of Cartman, but still, have him antagonize our main bois. Eventually, I agreed with myself about what was to happen. But when I started writing it, my imagination spiraled out of control. The end product was something that I absolutely hate myself for. It was legitimately something that could trigger people, especially if has experienced anything similar. While it's important to tell such stories so that people can understand, this beginning was not something that I could possibly share. 

Maybe at some point, I'll post it, but not as a part of this series, but in the near future, I won't. It was visual, with intense imagery that honestly made me feel horrible for writing it. Now, don't get me wrong, the writing of it was beautiful. It was a great piece of writing with amazing imagery, repetition, and feeling. But it was the content of it, the actions involved that made me sick.

After this, I had to take a break from writing. I couldn't write anything more, and I needed to get over the feeling that I had from writing it. The break became longer and longer, and I didn't have much motivation to continue, even though I so desperately wanted to. That and my school schedule did not help me. I got back writing things recently due to my involvement with my school's spoken word event, which I wrote a piece for and performed. Even though it took determination to do so, I think that this has allowed me to be able to have more determination to continue this fic. 

Thank you for all the hits, kudos, and comments that you guys have left while I was on a surprise hiatus. It took a while for me to decide to make this post in the first place because I didn't want to give people false hope of a new chapter, but I just wanted to let you know that you guys really make me happy and that I'm going to continue this work no matter what. Thank you for the love. 

So don't worry, this fic is not dead! It will be continued, but the next chapter might be shorter than usual. I hope you don't mind as I get back into the swing of things. But in the meantime, I have a question for you all.

Would you prefer that I continue with the high school backstory, leading back up to the first chapter's beginning, or begin the story at the present time, leaving room for backstory (though not as in-depth or as much of it) whenever it comes up into the present time? Please leave a comment!

Signed,

UnspokenWords <3

P.S. I've also had a work from Craig in the works, but I couldn't figure out how to write this thing correctly, but it will continue. (Hint: I really like school desks and lace.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an edit! I made a tumblr where you can ask me stuff about my fanfics! Please check it out, I'm alone...  
> www.unspokenwords-creek.tumblr.com


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